


the rain

by leavemeuntold



Category: Druck | SKAM (Germany)
Genre: Angst, David being the absolute best boyfriend, Depression, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Trans Male Character, matteo and david admiring each other's gorgeous faces, me being a bitch for dramatic crying scenes that end up with one character in the other's embrace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-06 01:19:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19052347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leavemeuntold/pseuds/leavemeuntold
Summary: Druck didn't address Matteo's MI, so I'm doing it myself.





	the rain

**Author's Note:**

> Before I let you dive into reading, I would like to mention that this is my first completed work and first time publishing anything I've written, so, bits of bad writing are very likely to follow.
> 
> ⚠️ Trigger warning for depression!

Locks of unkempt hair spilled over Matteo’s face, scratching his cheeks, his nose, getting in his half-closed eyes. Heaviness sprawled all over him, so much so that pulling his hand out from under the covers to push it back just felt like too big an effort. The outside sounded like a battleground. Rain drumming without rest, so much of it that the sound blurred into one long, whirring noise.

He stared at the switched off lamp beside his bed, focusing on a piece of black duct tape stuck on its covering—a product of one of his and David’s many play wrestles. It was starting to detach on one side. A few pieces of paper were cluttered beside it, all marked by the graphite of David’s pencil. Countless little sketches of random objects. One of them was a drawing of a dreamcatcher, one was of a tiny vial, with a glimmering, grey-white liquid inside it and a tag that read “antidote” stuck on the lid. Among the mess was an ashtray, at least ten cigarettes burned down to their filter thrust into the cinder. He'd cut weed off as an option for times like these, but he still needed something, anything to flame his lungs, make the days bearable—even if it's only for as long as the smoke unfolds inside.

The rain had still been beating a violent tattoo against the windows when he heard familiar footsteps nearing his room. 

“Good morning.” David murmured, hanging his damp jacket on a peg rack beside the door. The cold of the outside had made his cheeks flush pink, even more than usual.

“It’s 3 in the afternoon,” Matteo muttered, his figure barely visible from under two layers of sheets and a blanket.

“I know. Just figured you’d probably be sleeping longer than usual.”

“Mhm.”

David crouched beside the bed, levelling his head with Matteo’s and combed the hair out of his  pale-skinned face. He pressed his lips against his forehead. It was a cold touch, result of walking in the cool air outside. He smelled like October, like the rain, and the cologne he put on that morning hadn't yet faded from his skin. “How are you?”

“Tired.”

“Hm. Do you wanna eat something?”

"No.”

“Alright.”

Matteo reached out a warm hand to brush David’s cheek. It was the lightest of touches—barely any energy in it, brimming with tenderness. His cheek was soft under Matteo's fingers. David’s eyes darted to him, a repentant look reaching every corner of their dark hues.

"Can I come up there?" asked David in a quiet voice, carefully, as if Matteo was a wounded animal he didn't want to scare away.

"Mhm."

He climbed on the bed beside him, sliding under the warmed up covers and wrapped his arms around him as close, as tight as he could, burying his face into the flakes of amber sealed into each strand of hair. Matteo didn’t say anything, he only leaned into the embrace, shrinking his body almost unknowingly, as if trying to fit himself whole into David’s arms. They’d lain like that for a while before either of them spoke.

Matteo was the first one to whisper. “I wish you didn’t feel like you have to do this.”

“Do what?”

“This. All of it. Ask me how I’m doing, if I want to eat, watch me sleep or just lie half-awake for hours. All with that apologetic look on your face. Like it was you who did something wrong—like you’re supposed to know how to fix me.”

David shifted, pulling his arms from around Matteo, using them to turn his whole body around to face him. “We need to stop having this conversation, Matteo. I  _ want _ to be there when you need me. I needed you before. For so long, and you never stopped reaching for me, no matter how many times I tried to push you away, despite all the bullshit I used to tell you. You fought for me then, and now I fight with you."

“There's no fucking fight," Matteo snapped. He sat up, the sheets dropping from halfway over his head to his lap. “I drag around every corner of this room in my dirty fucking clothes smelling like shit, looking like shit, being useless. I make you worry about me all the time, call Hans or Mia, or even Linn in the middle of work just to check on me. I know the way you look at me when you think I can’t see you. With that guilt in your eyes. And you try so hard to make me feel better and sometimes it works for a while but then I’m back in this fucking hole for the thousandth time and the whole thing just plays on an endless loop and I’m wasting your time.” His eyes burned, and there was a ring in his ears, a sign he was overwhelmed. "Relationships are supposed to make you happy and taking care of someone like they’re a child that can’t do the most basic shit on their own for weeks at a time just doesn’t fucking cut it, does it?” The tears that had been begging to be released spilled across his flamed cheeks. "Maybe you should just leave and—"

"Stop bullshitting me!" David's voice throbbed with exasperation. "Just shut up," he breathed, trying to collect himself before he said anything more, anything worse, before Matteo got too scared. He never raised his voice at him like this, it was among the many promises he'd made to himself. Instantly, his heart trembled in regret.

Matteo's pupils twitched, jerking from one corner to another, lips parted in bewilderment. David took a shaky breath before his arms flew around him, cocooning his shrunken, shaking body. He could feel warm water sinking through the thin material of his shirt. Matteo hugged his arms around David's back with every atom of strength in his body, the cotton of his shirt wrinkling between his fingers. David threaded his fingers through Matteo's hair, trying to steady him, ease his heavy breathing. At least a few minutes had passed before Matteo's sobs almost stopped, turning into light, quiet cries before he calmed down completely. David laid them back on the bed, his arms still sitting tightly around Matteo and pulled the covers back over both of them. 

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"Me too," replied Matteo. 

"You need to stop apologizing," David said, dipping his eyes down to meet Matteo's, make sure he got the message. He took a short look up at him and something crossed his eyes, something David couldn't quite decipher, but it glinted lighter, lighter than the gloom that plagued the cloudless sky-blue under pale lashes on days like these. Then his head found its place on David's chest again. 

Minutes passed like that. Maybe even hours, who knew. Time barely existed when they were together, in the small world they created for themselves. Underwater. David checked for Matteo. With the way his breaths came, he may as well have fallen asleep. He hadn't though, David could see tiny glimpses of blue as Matteo blinked, his face still buried into his chest.

"That night at the pool—" David started, "—I promised myself I will never run again."

Matteo pulled himself up slightly, leveling his head with David's neck.

He continued, "I got so tired of it. It was supposed to make things easier, and it did—some of them. But running is never easy in itself. However many shitty things and people you get to leave behind, you've gotta let go of the good stuff too." His eyes darted down to Matteo.

"You're my good stuff," he gave his body a little shake, as if to make sure he was listening, "even on the bad days."

Matteo looked up at him, the cloudless sky-blue of his eyes darker under the dim lighting of the room. They circled David’s face for a few seconds, the slight curve of his eyebrows, opaque eyelashes cloaking his eyes, the color of summer soil—just bright enough to shine in the shadows, his septum glinting against the pale light of the lamp set on a nightstand beside the bed, before finally landing on his lips, their rosebud more enticing every time Matteo lays his eyes on them.

He brushed David’s lower lip with his thumb, barely touching it, and then his mouth found David’s, only softly lingering there for a few seconds—still enough to make Matteo dissolve completely. He never got used to the elation of kissing David. It was all familiar and foreign, a new type of high, a blaze spreading across every inch of his body, some kind of electricity crawling right under his skin.

"You're my good stuff too," he whispered against David's lips, "the best." He brought their mouths together once more before filling his spot in the hollow of David's neck again. The corners of David's lips turned up, a slight twinkle surfacing his eyes.

"Can I ask you a question?" said David, after a long silence.

"Yes."

"Do you want to get better?"

Matteo took in a lengthy breath. "I do. I'd like to get better."

"That's good." David found his eyes again, just gazing at him for a few seconds, thinking.

"I know a woman. Mrs. Böhm, she's a therapist. Laura used to visit her, she has an office near our old school. I went a few times too. She's nice, and she really helped me. Both of us, actually."

Matteo looked down, a slight movement of his pupils visible under half-closed eyelids. David could feel the drum of Matteo's heart quicken against his own body.

"I'll give you her number and you can make an appointment," continued David, "or I'll call her for you, if you want, since it would be your first time. You can go talk to her and see if you like it. If not, we'll find someone else for you to visit. Does that sound good?"

Matteo stayed quiet, drawing small circles on David's stomach with his finger. It took a minute or two for him to finally answer. "Okay. That sounds good," he murmured, "I'll call her."

David couldn't quite help but crack a pleased smile to himself. He tugged Matteo closer, kissing the top of his head. His hair smelled a bit like David's cologne now.

The rain still plunged outside, washing the world with each teardrop of the drab clouds high above. But it was lighter now. Far from thoroughly tranquil, but slowly falling silent—like a hint of looming serenity. 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are greatly appreciated, I would love to hear what you guys think about this! My tumblr is @leavemeuntold, if you would rather hit me up over there, feel free to <3
> 
> In case you suffer from depression and feel like any part of this is a bad portrayal of the condition or may potentially be harmful, please let me know, I will not jump to my own defense and will take it down.


End file.
